


Howling To The Stars

by toaquiprashippar



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Tourney at Harrenhal, my version of things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 07:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17402987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toaquiprashippar/pseuds/toaquiprashippar
Summary: There's nought like a tourney to make the blood run hot, so maybe some words were whispered in a tent of a night, who can say?





	Howling To The Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilgulie5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilgulie5/gifts).



> This one was written particularly to my lovely friend Katie, thanks for being in my life. I hope this brings you joy, happy bday, my love. 
> 
> This was born with the help of my dear Lustonmyfinger and the continuous support and reviews of my handsome star Callmedewitt, the cheering of Valdecastille and my soulmate Fairytalelovr. 
> 
> Also, this babe beta'd it for me. What would I do without you? 
> 
> One more time, happy bday, Kat. I hope you enjoy it! :))

                                                         

Ned was laughing at another one of Bran’s stupid jokes when he first saw her there. Beautiful dark hair, laughing purple eyes, beautiful pink lips and a face fashioned by the Gods, she sat next to Princess Elia.

Bran continued speaking but it was almost as if the entire room had gone silent. Ned could only see her.

“Well, is my baby brother getting interested in girls, then?” Brandon laughed. “Who is the lucky beauty?” Brandon half mocked him, patting his shoulder and Ned looked to the side as he avoided getting caught.

He had lost interest in all of Robert’s conquests unlike the other guys who seemed quite taken by his tales; although Brandon Stark seemed to ignore it as well as he searched for where his brother’s eyes wouldn’t leave.

“Ned! You found yourself a beauty!” Brandon laughed. “You should ask her to dance.”

“She probably has better suitors to dance with to, Bran.” Ned shook his head, drinking a gulp of his ale.

“Nonsense. How would you know? Ask her, stupid.” Brandon insisted, his sight searching for his brother’s courage to show.

“No, Brandon. Forget about it.” Ned said, still looking at her beautiful smile.

“Seven Hells, Ned. You do not let a woman like that run. No.” Brandon abandoned him and walked towards the girl who stole his breath.

“Fuck. Brandon.” Ned cursed his brother under breath. _She would never dance with me._

Ned watched as Brandon approached, then another one of the ladies around her laughed, and his beauty looked at where Brandon pointed at — him.

Eddard Stark had never felt this embarrassed before, he wanted to run all the way back to Winterfell, but he remembered his father’s words: _a man can only be brave when he’s afraid._ Also, she walked in his direction, her eyes searching his expression, her hips swaying its way to him.

“Ned. I believe you owe this beautiful lady a dance.” Brandon barely introduced them, and she bit her lip.

“My lady.” Ned kissed her hand, feeling his lips prickling as it touched her soft hand.

“This is Lady Ashara of House Dayne, brother.” Brandon’s smile was pure malice, Ned ignored him.

“This is my brother, Lord Eddard Stark, my lady.” Bran added.

“Would you give me the honor?” He asked her nervously, pointing out to where others were dancing, and her eyes sparkled. Her beautiful purple eyes like a star lightening up a dark sky.

 “I would.” Lady Ashara smiled and offered her his hand, which he took, barely believing such woman would give him an ounce of her time.

Her waist was thin, although her hips were curvy. Lady Ashara Dayne wore a beautiful purple gown, a mysterious smile and before the first song was over, he was already looking for ways to make sure a second one would follow.

“So, you never speak as you dance?” She asked him, biting her lip.

“I don’t dance much.” Ned was honest, she smiled.

“You should: your feet have not stepped on mine yet, your arms are gentle, and I do not imagine any lady would be less than pleased to share a dance with you, Lord Stark.

Ned tried to brush away her compliments, blushing furiously, but still continued.

“My brother will be Lord Stark one day, I’m just Eddard.” He stated.

“Lord Eddard, then.” She said as if it did not lessen him at her eyes. He smiled for the first time since they started dancing. She was very unlike most ladies Ned had ever met.

“Westerosi and their love for their titles.” She teased him.

“Dorne is part of Westeros — isn’t our next queen Dornish?” He joined her tease, she seemed to enjoy it.

“Yes, but I much prefer our manners. We are light on our feet, quick on our tongue, and titles may amuse us, but they certainly are not all that is relevant on a person.” Ashara said.

“Then the Dornish have it better than us.” Ned gave her a croaked smile.

“Are you joining the jousting tomorrow, Lord Eddard?” He could hear the amusement at the mention of his title.

“I’m afraid not, my lady.” He said and she eyed him wondering.

“You do not joust?” She asked.

“I don’t like fighting at Tourneys, riding or sword fighting.” Ned answered.

“Why is that?” Lady Ashara did not seem to judge him, only curiosity crossed her eyes.

“I don’t fight in tournaments because when I fight a man for real, I don’t want him to know what I can do.” Ned said.

“Why, Lord Eddard, now you are making the rest of the knights sound like egotistic fools and I do not imagine my brother would like the thought.” She chuckled against his neck and Ned felt the goosebumps taking over his body. “Can’t say I don’t see that you are right. But why deny the boys their favorite sport.” She asked tilting her head to meet his eyes.

“War should not be a sport.” He murmured, no judgement, only speaking his mind.

“No, it should not. But surely you will not tell them that.” Ashara pointed out to a whole lot of excited men, trading jokes and mockery.

Ned smiled. “I will make sure I don’t. I would not want to upset the Sword of the Morning.” He said and she eyed him amused.

“I appreciate it, I would rather you two got along.” She said and he felt the goosebumps again. _I can never tell this to Bran, he will mock me to no end._

“So would I.” He answered and someone touched her back.

“Ashara, Princess Elia is not feeling well, we should take her to her chambers.” One of the ladies that accompanied Princess Elia said and Ned cursed in his mind. He never wanted the dance to end.

“Oh, excuse me, Ned. I have to go.” She leaned on his ear and whispered. “Meet me near the gardens after the feast tomorrow? I would love for us to continue our talk. The stars are a beautiful sight from here.” She said quietly. _They are indeed,_ he thought to himself.

“I will see you then.” He said and she left before he could embarrass himself further. He looked for Brandon, and he could see him dancing with a giggling wench. He shook his head and took his leave. The feast was almost over and he had had way too many cups of ale. 

* * *

Ashara was leaving Elia’s chambers, happy her friend was feeling better but even happier to think who she would meet in a few moments.

Eddard Stark had been a pleasant surprise for her. She had heard of his brother and his wondering ways, but never had she heard of the Quiet Wolf, or so one Elia’s ladies mentioned he was called. Ned was quiet, it made sense, but he was so much more than that.

He might be of the North but his hands were warm, his smile soft, and his face handsome in a way that others were not. He was calm and his presence brought an ease for her that she had never known, she just felt well… or more than that around him.

They had danced four dances before she was taken to care for Elia. As they were left alone, Ashara told her everything about the second son of Lord Rickard Stark and the Princess told her to go to him today . During the jousts, Elia could not help but comment, as her brother mounted his horse, how Arthur would be protective of her, with a sword at hand if the winter lord did not respect her.

Ashara was not thinking about that, she just wanted his hands around her again, but more than that, she wanted to talk to him. She wanted to listen to his husky voice. She wanted to learn more about him, all she could before she had to leave.

It was an odd feeling. Lady Ashara had never fallen in love, and despite rumors at Court, she had never been bedded. Love was a mystery all Dornish enjoyed solving, and somehow she felt like doing the same.

_No, not love. Love does not happen this fast._ She told herself, but then a voice just as raspy as his rang in her head: _Yes, it does._

She ignored all thoughts and endured the entire day of jousting and sword fighting, remembering Ned’s words and for the first time, it felt a little silly to show your opponent your strength so he could defeat you at the wars to come. She quickly thought of the Mad King — unless Rhaegar’s plans worked, the realm was not that far from it.

Once she got to the garden and the Quiet Wolf sat at one of the rocks, her heart raced. He was so handsome, she thought.

“Well, I told you the view was splendid.” She bit her lip as he turned to see her.

“Yes, it is.” His voice full of meaning, she blushed for once.

“Should we walk around the gardens? I believe you are not staying at the castle?” She asked him.

“I am not, my lady. I am at my family’s camp across the field.” He pointed the direction.

“Well, the castle is all cold stones and ghosts of the past.” She joked.

“Winterfell is no different, although our walls are warm. Hot springs running through them to warm up our chambers and halls. We have hot springs all over Winterfell.” He said, offering her his arm, which she took, enjoying the feeling of his skin on hers. He had hot springs beneath it too?

“May I ask you a question?” She asked him.

“You may, of course, my lady.”

“How is it to see, to touch snow?” Ashara asked with an honest doubt, she had never seen snow. Dorne was warm and it never snowed there, and she had not stayed at King’s Landing enough to find out if it snowed there as well. _Maybe snow ran from the foul smell and disturbing noises of the city._

“It is cold but so soft,” he began with a smile, “When you touch it, it turns to water, it melts away.” Ned said.

“Is it as beautiful as I imagine?”

“It’s even more, I dare say. I love it when it snows and we can see Winterfell covered in it. It is a beautiful sight, as if the whole keep is made of snow; me, my brothers and Lya used to play around it after a winter storm.” He seemed to recall distant memories.

“Maybe I can see it for myself one day.” She said, not thinking what her words could mean.

“I would love to show you, if you would allow me one day.” He answered the same.

“I could not think of another person I wanted to show me snow more than you.” She half joked, half meant it with wistful eyes.

“Some beautiful things are not meant to be touched, only loved.” He looked down, flushing and she melted. She wanted to be loved but so much more than that.

“Maybe they want love, but maybe they want to be touched just as well as loved.” She got closer to him, she could feel the warmth coming out of his lips.

“What can a second son offer you, my lady?”

“This.” She touched his heart, “this,” his lips, “this,” she kissed his lips, not expecting the whole of emotions that took over her. His lips were warm and rough but she enjoyed how they felt against her. His breath was ale and something else she could not pinpoint.

They kissed forever and for a moment, she was out of breath when they separated.

“I have to go, the King wants us to join the jousts early tomorrow.” She murmured against his lips.

“Can I see you again?” The shy boy was panting and no shyness could be found at his touch so very low on her back.

“Tomorrow evening, mayhap. Wait for me at the Godswood.” She pecked his lips and he did the same back.

“For the Old Gods to see?” He asked with a smile. “Their Godswood here is dead.”

“Then it is a good thing no one will see us.” She said amused and kissed his cheek, leaving his presence with her heart beating fast, her mind filled with memories of his taste, his touch and his breath on her skin. His rough voice. She fell asleep to dreams of skin on skin and if it was sinful enough for her to think, what would her gods and his say if they could see her dreams? 

* * *

Ned had spent the entire day with his head on his lady. Tomorrow would be the final day of the jousts but he could not care less about it. The Knight of the Laughing Tree caused a commotion and invaded his mind as he, like everybody else, wondered who might he be.

What scared him was that he recognized that drawing, and he recognized the fake voice he heard as the knight asked his fallen opponents to teach their squire honor.

Lyanna.

Seven Hells, the moment he was allowed, he went to her tent, to find the Prince there, caring for her wounds, with his Kingsguard, Ser Arthur Dayne. Ned flushed at the sight of him, but it all went away the moment he saw his beautiful sister groaning in pain.

“What happened, Lya? What did you do?” He ran to her, ignoring the Prince for a moment. She grumbled something and went back to sleep.

“I imagine you know what happened, Lord Stark. I had a Maester check on her, she did not break her ribs but they are bruised, she was given Milk of the Poppy after some fight, your sister can be quite willful.” The Prince said.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I am Lord Eddard only, but I must thank you for caring for my sister and not bringing her back to your father. I was there and I imagine it was not easy to deny him.” Ned said, really grateful.

“Oh, Lord Eddard, it was easier than you could ever imagine. Your sister defended her friend’s honor, most men would not do that, let alone a lady.” He said with a smile that gave Ned some worrisome thoughts.

“Do not let her hear you calling her that, Your Grace. Lyanna hates to be called a lady.” He said with a croaked smile.

Surprisingly enough, the Prince chuckled.

“I imagine she does.” He said getting up from the chair he sat at. “Thank you, Lord Eddard. If you would, could you send me word of her state when she wakes up? She was in a lot of pain earlier, I should like to make sure she is well.” Something in the Prince’s voice showed an unbelievable warmth.

“Very well, Your Grace. I will make sure you know she is okay.” He said and both men said their goodbyes, except for Ser Arthur, that only nodded at Ned’s direction.

Ned saw his beautiful, willful sister lying awkwardly, mayhap trying to make it so her bruises wouldn’t touch the bed. He could not leave her side, she needed him.

He thought of Ashara, how he wanted to let her know what had just happened. Benjen was probably following Bran around and they were all at the feast, there was no one Ned trusted to send her a message.

He imagined her waiting for him, and him not showing. How he hated that. Lyanna moaned loudly and he reached out to her, touching her hair.

He hated it, but he stayed with her that night, hoping that Ashara would not hate him. He hated himself for letting her wait _. Hells, Lya. Why did you have to be so fucking reckless?_ He cursed internally.

He knew she meant well, she always did. Lyanna was only fifteen, but she was already a child-woman of a surpassing loveliness. Ned loved her with all his heart, he could not leave her. He sent a prayer to the stars asking for forgiveness, hoping he was not losing his lady because of it. 

* * *

Ashara was mad when he left her waiting. He never showed at the feast or at their scheduled meeting. She did not know him long but it did not become him to do this.

At first she had been angry, so angry. But then Elia’s words rang on her head: _Ash, have you considered the thought that mayhap something happened? Something serious enough to keep him from seeing you?_ Her eyes were knowing, as if she knew something she could not tell. Ashara knew better than to ask.

_“Not really,” she had answered her, feeling bad for thinking poorly of him before thinking things through. But Ashara had seen her fair share of heart breaks between her friends and family. Court was a nest of vanity, secrets, power-hunger, and heartbreaks._

_“Speak to him tomorrow, love. Maybe he has an explanation.” She had said and Ashara considered it throughout the next day, before she would see him again at the feast._

The moment their eyes met at Harrenhal’s Great Hall, she could see the sadness in it. She was still hurt, but Elia’s words kept repeating itself on her head and she was willing to ask before accusing him.

He approached her right after the feast, as soon as people began dancing.

“Would you grant me a dance, my lady?” His shyness long forgotten, she could see his brother’s smile from afar.

“I don’t know, my lord. Maybe you should wait a bit.” She knew it was childish, somehow she knew he would not have done it without a proper reason.

“Ashara, please.” He begged and she could not deny him no longer, his face covered in angst. He looked so much more handsome smiling, she wanted him to smile.

So she nodded and accompanied him to the middle of the hall.

“I am so sorry I could not make it last night. My sister fell ill and I had no one else around me to help, I did not want to send you a message through anyone I did not trust and risk your reputation.” He rushed his words, and she let out a breath, happy to know there was indeed a reason.

“You seem more worried about my reputation than myself, my lord.” She was still affected, but her anger was gone. Her pride was the one left wounded.

“I am sorry, Ashara.” He repeated and as the minstrel began singing a sad song, they got even closer, dancing to the melody, forgetting about the lyrics.

“It’s all right. Your sister needed you.” She stated and he circled her entire waist with his arm.

“I missed you.” He murmured against her ear and she smiled.

“So did I.” 

* * *

Later that evening, he was there before she was. Looking at the dead Weirwood trees that were once inhabited by his Gods. It felt fitting to bring her to a place of Gods, Ashara’s beauty and heart seemed like something out of a story. Her wits, her humor, her body. She was so much more than he deserved but he would not question her anymore, he thought to himself.

Ned did not see her arrive, so he was startled by her voice.

“You look rather distracted, my lord. I wonder what is it that Lord Eddard Stark is occupying his mind with.” The tease evident in her tone.

“I was thinking of how this tourney has given me some of the best moments of my life.” He said, enjoying the crease on the side of her eyes when she smiled.

“Would you mind if we went for a little walk? We do not get to look at such starry skies in King’s Landing.” She asked and he rose from the rock he sat on.

“Of course, my lady.” He said and they began to walk out of the castle and somewhat far from the tents.

As they walked, they spoke. They spoke of everything, jokes and sorrows, laughter and comfortable silence filling the space around them.

After moments of walking, Ashara took the mantle that covered her and threw it on the floor, arranging it so they could seat beneath the stars. Silence did not reign for long.

“Why do you live in King’s Landing, my lady? If you allow me to ask you.” He politely asked.

“Call me Ashara, will you? I believe we are close enough for that.” She said with a smile and sat herself right across from him, sitting on her side. “Elia is my friend. Princess Elia, I guess. We grew up together and the last time I went to Sunspear, Doran mentioned she missed home. She had just given birth and although I miss home so very much, I cannot say I regret it. Those might be times of madness, but a friendship can bring joy even to our darkest moments.” She said and he nodded.

“I agree, and it is most generous of you to do so. Princess Elia is lucky.” He said blushing and she smiled.

“I don’t know about that. I do think I am, had your brother not had the courage to ask me to dance with you, how dull and tedious would my time here have been.” Ashara said with a sweet smile and Ned could not help himself, he got up on his knees and approached her, who also rose as he had. He touched her face, as she leaned into his hand.

“They say luck favors the bold.” Ashara whispered.

“I am feeling rather bold today.” She smiled and touched her lips in his, although unlike last time, he responded right away, embracing her and holding her to him impossibly close.

Her smell filled his senses and her hands traveled his back. It was dark, only the moonlight to give them guidance, but something else burned there, the fierce desire they both felt in their veins.

Ned grabbed her by her waist, as he laid her down, the veins on his arm jumping with the display of strength and Ashara could feel and see his might.

As Ned’s tongue traveled her lips, entering her mouth and adventuring them into their most delicious kiss, Ned’s body was almost completely parallel to hers, and she could feel his desire pressing against her. She wanted him out of his clothes and to do the same with her own, but she decided to enjoy his lips. She touched his back, all the way to his arse, pulling to her, and she whimpered to feel him against her already warm center.

Ned groaned loudly and she took joy in it. After a long time, he broke them apart, sitting across from her, both panting with the kiss they had just shared.

“Ash, I’m sorry, I…” He tried apologizing as she started opening his doublet, kissing his neck all the way to his earlobe, which she bit.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. Don’t think too much.” She whispered to him and he decided he liked the thought.

“What do you want, Ash?” He used the name she loved.

“You.” She said and he was fast to untangle the knot on her back that slid down a layer of her white and pink dress, leaving her in a soft pink Myrish lace, and her shift that soon was the only thing between them as he stripped himself as she did the same.

In the end, they were as naked as their name days and before they could follow another further step, Ned admired her form. If the Gods had ever desired to create a perfect creature, Ashara had been their final art.

“You are beautiful.” He murmured, both standing up. One of his hand touched her face as the other stopped by her waist. He caressed her face, touching her lips softly, sliding it down to her neck, as she pushed her head back enjoying his touch.

When his hand met her breast, her nipples were stiff and she panted. His other hand touched her back, stopping at her arse, bringing her to him in a grab. Her hand enveloped him, as he moaned to her cold hand. Not even the cold could take away the sensation of her touch.

Ned feasted on her breasts, and Ashara followed his rhythm, pumping him slowly to his own torture.

“Oh, Ned.” She exclaimed as he suckled her heavy teat, repeating himself with the other, and she was enjoying every bit of him as he was hers.

When she grabbed his balls and caressed it, he could not hold himself much longer. He laid her on her back, touching her warmth, teasing her slit but finding her sensitive spot the moment she yelped.

Ashara held on to her mantle, panting loudly and groaning expressively the moment his lips met her cunt. She had never felt better in her life.

She grabbed her own breast in an unconscious response, only to feel her pleasure increase. As he licked and nibbled on her, she felt her entire world explode behind her eyelids, caressing his hair with her free hand.

Ned got up on his arms, wanting to touch her but fearing her disgust. He was surprised to feel her pulling him to her, her lips welcoming him eagerly, as she pushed herself against him, moaning to their bare touch.

She rose her hips to him thrice before he took himself on his hand and pushed against her.

“This might hurt.” He murmured, panting.

“You could never truly hurt me.” She kissed his face. He smiled and pushed himself, little by little cursing himself as she screamed in pain.

He gave her a moment to get used to his girth and size, thinking how a woman like her would give him the time of day. Ned was sure he was falling in love with her, so he let aside the thought of parting from her in a few days. She had become the one thing he wanted the most in the world. Her, them.

Ned had never wanted Winterfell. Although sometimes he envied Brandon being sure he would never have to leave home, as he laid his back in the Eyrie, he still liked knowing he would find home anyway.

Ned had never wanted to be as strong as Robert, his strength was followed by recklessness and Ned had never been ashamed of being named the Quiet Wolf.

Ned had never envied married lords, or royalty, not even the best swordsman or the greatest minds he had known so far.

He was Ned, just Ned. He had enough wits to fair well where he followed. He had enough skills to be complimented for his intimacy with a sword. He had enough love for his family to never envy them, to know that he was loved as much as he loved them.

Finally, after nine and ten years of life, Ned wanted something more than his own life, he wanted her. Beside him, forever.

“Ned.” Ashara pressed his arm, kissing his face and biting his lip, so he moved. He moved slowly, the best sort of torture for the both of them, until Ashara’s hips seemed to come alive against his and their movements became fast and deep. Both moaning the feeling of flesh against flesh. She was so wet it almost made up for how tight she was. He was surrounded by her and there was nowhere else he would rather be.

Ned knew he could never last long, she felt too good, her breasts filling his hand as his hand grabbed her full rounded arse. Ned was on her, in her and he wanted even more.

“Ned, oh… Ned… Oh, oh, oh, ooooooooh.” She came with a shout, pressing her nails against his back, the flesh already thoroughly marked by her. She milked him in her high and he only lasted three more pumps.

“Ashara. Oh, Ash.” He moaned just as loud, as his seed filled her with his pleasure.

They were far enough from others to not be heard, and close enough to each other to share unthinkable words, hidden promises that one would never think to be shared between a wolf and a star.

“I love you.” Ned whispered.

“And I, you, my wolf.” She answered warmly, embracing him as he fell on her, fully spent, their limbs melting against one another. Pleasure could still be found traveling through them.

“I don’t want to be without you.” He whispered against her ear.

“Then don’t.” She answered.

“Marry me. Marry me before your gods and mine.” He asked and she looked at him crying tears of happiness. The moon illuminating her form, her purple eyes shining the feelings between them.

“Yes.” She answered and he laughed, having never felt such happiness before.

“We should speak to your lord father. I can…” He was already finding ways to speed their union.

“Come home with me. I am sure Elia would not mind.” She asked and he wanted to.

“I should speak to Father first, I hope he can give me a keep, I want you to be happy and comfortable as well.” He said and she shook her head.

“If he denies you, and you find it in your Northern delicious body to endure warmth, we can come to Dorne.” She chuckled and he smiled.

“You know I mean this, right? I will marry you, I just want us to do this right.” He assured her and rolled to his side, still touching her waist.

“I know, Ned.” She said but something told her to not accept, something warned her against it.

“Speak to the Princess, I will speak to my brother.” As the representative Lord of Winterfell, Brandon had power to bless this union, even though Ned was sure it would not satisfy his father that he rushed into it.

Ned had never been more certain of anything in his life, he was the dutiful son. Always following where he was told, always obeying, always honoring his house. No, he shook his head. He would honor his heart now.

“I will pen a letter to Father and speak to Brandon. When the Tourney is over, I will go to Starfall with you.” He said and she kissed his entire face, until her lips found his.

“Is this real?” She asked.

“I should like to think so.” He answered softly, bringing her body to his, as they followed to their second round, not being able to help themselves to give into their love.

In the end of it all, Brandon was more than happy to give Ned his leave. Robert mocked him a handful of words, as Benjen showed himself sad to think his brother would live south and never see him again. After Lyanna explained it would not be so, she hugged him, wishing her dearest brother all the happiness in the world. He promised to write them, and them, him. Ned spoke to Ser Arthur, before taking a handful of Stark men on his journey south to Starfall with Ashara.

The knight showed himself happy but wary, Ned was okay with that. He received his compliments from the Princess and the Prince, only after he secretively confirmed Lyanna was rather well that morning.

As soon as they reached South, both lords Stark and Dayne had agreed upon their dowry, Lord Rickard would rebuild Moat Cailin for his son and good daughter, but until then, they would live at Starfall.

When the Rebellion broke after the Mad King had set his father on fire and chocked his brother as he tried to defend him, Ned world came to ashes.

Ned never believed Rhaegar to have kidnapped Lyanna. Ashara had mentioned Rhaegar’s plans to dethrone his mad father, and the morning Prince Rhaegar, Lyanna and Elia Martell arrived with the children and the pregnant Queen, Ned wrote to his friend and to his mentor, hoping they would side with Rhaegar against Aerys Targaryen, but Robert’s anger was far beyond reason.

Jon Arryn’s was not.

Robert perished after he was injured in battle. With word of the second marriage of the Prince spread across the Realm, the Lannisters had pretended to join the King’s army, only to open the gates to Rhaegar. Jon Arryn secured them the alliance of the Tullys after wedding Lysa Tully, while her sister had wed Brandon before he went for Lyanna, and when it was made clear she had not fallen pregnant with his child, she went back to her father’s castle, until she was wed to Lord Blackwood. Even a widower, Lady Catelyn was beautiful and highborn, just enough for her father’s bannerman.

So with the strength of Dorne, after it was made clear Elia’s son Aegon would be the Crown Prince, the Riverlands, the Vale, the North, and the Reach, took over King’s Landing.

When Ned returned home, Ashara had a young blonde beauty, with her eyes and his smile, who they named Daenerys. Lyanna had a boy, all Stark if not for his father’s nose. Queen Rhaella had lost her babe but the little Prince helped his mother mend her broken heart, alongside his Uncle Viserys.

Ned took Ashara home to Winterfell, where he would now be Lord of, Warden of the North and husband of the Lady Ashara of Houses Dayne and Stark. Not long after the little Daenerys, came Allyria, Robb, Cregan, and Arya.

Rhaegar and Lyanna had sent Jon to foster with them when he had been only eight name days old. Little did they know the great love story that would come out from that, but that, is a tale for another time.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooooooo?  
> This one was a gift to one of my favorite people of this fandom, my beautiful Kat.  
> I don't usually go with that canon but I wanted to write something you loved, I hope I managed! <333  
> I hope I brought a smile to your beautiful face! <3  
> Love you, darling.


End file.
